Chapter 12: Baptized by Fire

Castiel's vision goes hazy as Dean's first connects with his jaw. He stumbles backwards, trying not to fall. He blinks and shakes his head, allowing himself a moment before his sight is clear again. Dean is grinning smugly, and biting his lip.

"Sorry, Cas. I didn't think I was hitting that hard," he says sheepishly. Castiel shakes his head and motions for Dean to come at him again. This was an everyday thing now, sparring with Dean. It doesn't seem to be too effective, because Dean rarely hits him hard enough for Castiel to need to learn to steel his body against a blow. It is against his nature. If Dean had hit him when he was angel, Dean would only find himself with some broken knuckles. Castiel could evade easily enough. He and Dean were on par there. That wasn't the point though.

Dean comes at Castiel again, but Castiel is ready this time. He leans to the side, just out of reach of Dean's incoming fist. He grabs Dean's wrist, and in a moment has Dean's arm behind his back. Dean grumbles something that sounds like "cheater" under his breathe, before elbowing Castiel in the ribs and using the moment to flip himself around and land a punch again in the ribs. Castiel falls backwards, losing his footing.

Dean extends out a hand, to help lift him back to his feet. Castiel was so conditioned to be an immovable object, who could throw a man with the smallest effort. He had the mechanics of fighting, but he didn't have the instinct for it in the same way. It was rewiring his mind to fight like a human, and it was tedious. Every day was this, sparring with bare fists, and sometimes including a weapon.

Castiel really wasn't into it right now. He hadn't slept well, and Sam had made Cas join him for a run this morning before Sam left to run some errands for school.

"Come on, Dean. Do we need to do this today?" he asks, pleading. Dean rolls his eyes, since Castiel says this practically every day.

"Here, we can use knives for a bit if that makes you feel better" he says, tossing Castiel's old blade to him.

Castiel catches it midair, and twirls it in his fingers. The familiarity is soothing, and he feels that realistically, he'd do fine in a fight if he had a knife. If there was one thing Castiel had been surprised to learn about himself, was that he was competitive. Maybe that was why sparring endlessly was such an irritation. With his knife, he felt on more equal footing, and that was enough to drive him.

He grins at Dean, who smirks in return. Dean is agile, Castiel gives him that. He isn't necessarily strong, not in the same way that Sam is. He is fast, and he doesn't easily lose his ground. Castiel is faster though, smaller, and certainly a little weaker, but the differences in their fighting styles make them an interesting match.

Castiel gains an inch, but he loses it the second Dean's fist connects with his stomach. He has Dean on his back, and he thinks he has won, but you can't ever count Dean out even when he's down. Castiel is pinned to the ground next, and Dean is grinning wickedly. They are careful not to actually harm one another, admitting knife wounds where they would naturally be. Castiel uses his last strength to push Dean off of him and whirls around, catching Dean's arm with his knife accidentally. He ignores the small line of red on Dean's white undershirt, and grabs Dean's arm, wrapping it behind his back. Castiel uses his knees to push Dean forward, into a kneeling position on the floor. Dean's free hand is clenched into a tight fist around his knife, but Castiel sees it before Dean can take action. He kicks the knife, and stands close behind Dean, letting his knife rest against Dean's throat.

"Jerk. You kicked my hand." Dean says, annoyed.

Castiel is slightly amused, but proud. He and Dean are very even fighters, and Dean had beaten him the last few days. The competitive side of Cas is immensely pleased, even though he does feel a small twinge of guilt for hurting Dean accidentally.

He drops his knife on a nearby table and helps Dean to his feet.

"Sorry I cut you there," Cas says, motioning to the small red line on Dean's shirt.

Dean sighs with annoyance, but smiles at Castiel anyway. "Not a big deal, I'll just toss it in the wash tonight," he says, as he takes the shirt off. Castiel tries not to let his eyes give him away too much, but he can't help but gaze at Dean appreciatively. His arms are strong and toned, but he isn't built like Sam is. There is a softness to him as well. Castiel ignores the urge to rest his hands against Dean's chest, or to place his hands on Dean's hips.

Dean retreats to the bathroom for a moment, returning with some gauze and paper tape. He holds it out towards Castiel and raises his eyebrows.

"Your fault, you fix it", he says with a grin.

Castiel licks his lips nervously for a moment, trying to fight the urge to again press his body close to Dean. Now that he thought about it, he didn't think he'd ever seen Dean with his shirt off. They both sleep with their clothing on. His fingers fumble over the gauze, as he wipes the blood away with an alcohol pad. His eyes narrow as he notices the small sprinkling of freckles over Dean's shoulders and slightly onto his back. They are light, almost not noticeable, but Cas notices them.

His hands expertly apply two strips of tape over the gauze, his fingers brushing gently across Dean's skin. Dean looks at Cas, through lowered eyelids, a smirk still plastered to his face. Castiel can barely stand it anymore, and part of him wants to shock Dean slightly, at least enough to remove that smirk!

Castiel wraps one arm around Dean's waist, and pulls him in close. Dean watches expectantly, but also curiously. He likes it when Cas lets loose and surprises him. Dean was usually the one who initiated their physical contact, once they were safely alone in their bedroom, or parked in the car outside their familiar park. It was exciting when they changed it up.

Castiel moves his lips closer to Dean's, but he doesn't let them touch. His free hand is moving around Dean's torso, feeling the surprisingly soft skin. For such a rugged and worn man, Dean is still gentle and soft at the core. Cas can feel Dean's sharp inhales, as his fingers tease at Dean's hip bone.

"Dammit, Cas, you tease", Dean says, finally wrapping his arms around Castiel and pulling him close so that their lips touch. Castiel's heart is beating out of control, as a moan escapes his throat. He staggers forward, pushing Dean against a table, one hand tugging and Dean's hair, the other one clasped around Dean's hip. Dean's eyes are closed, as he tilts his head backwards, his own words escaping through bated breaths.

"Oh, god, yes"

Castiel's eyes flicker over Dean's face...his pouty lips, long eyelashes, and exposed neck. Castiel softly kisses Dean's neck, tracing his way up along Dean's jawline. He dances around Dean's lips, as Dean lets out soft moans and curse words. Castiel's fingers tug gently at Dean's jeans, although his stops for a moment when he realizes that he's not sure what he'd be getting himself into with that. He pulls Dean closer, finding Dean's lips finally and kissing him hard.

Dean's eyes flick open, and he pushes Castiel backwards.

"I just heard the impala. Sam's home," he says groaning. Castiel rolls his eyes, tired of acting as if Sam has no idea what is going on between the two of them.

Dean looks at Cas, "Great, you've got a boner", he says sarcastically. Castiel raises one eyebrow at Dean. He'd gotten pretty good at human responses.

"So do you."